The Ancient Breed by David Brookover Page A

that’s all.”
    Neo laughed. “At least they didn’t carry your ass outa there in a Hefty bag.”
    Nick winced. “Might have been better than putting-up with your bullshit.”
    They broke into laughter, and then Nick’s expression became grim again.
    Neo’s eyes narrowed. “You look like you lost your best friend, Nick. Spill.”
    Nick quickly detailed what little he knew about Blossom’s kidnapping down in Fort Myers. As Neo listened, his jaw tightened. Nick then outlined his investigative strategy, and after a brief discussion, Neo stood.
    “You coming, too?” Neo asked.
    Nick shook his head. “You’re running point on this for me,” he replied. “Keep me posted on all developments.”
    “I hope there are some,” Neo said, doubling his hands into enormous fists. “When I get a hold of those kidnappers, I’ll bust their asses.”
    “Save a little for the prosecutors, okay?” Nick waited for Neo’s anger to subside. “Velma made your flight and motel reservations, so check with her before you leave the office.”
    “Will do.”
    “And Neo.”
    Neo turned. “What?”
    “Watch your back.”
    The big man nodded and left.
    Nick entered Orion Sector’s computer center in the J. Edgar Hoover Building and approached Crow’s assistant, John Lockwood.
    “Anything yet on the Tampa angle or walking man ?” Nick asked.
    “Zero, boss.” John was a tall gangly young man in his mid-twenties. His wild electrocution-victim hair accentuated his hypertension, but he was one of the best available or Crow wouldn’t have hired him. Sometimes, though, Nick felt an overwhelming urge to strap John into a straightjacket.
    “Not good, John. Check into all upcoming Tampa events involving government officials at every level, from political functions like big-money fund-raisers to garden-club speeches,” Nick directed.
    Lockwood typed in the search parameters and entered the commands. Minutes crept by like hours. Finally the monitor chimed. There were three responses.
    “Looks like we have the Vice-President on a Republican goodwill tour this Saturday, arriving at ten hundred hours and departing on Air Force Two at eighteen hundred hours. Then we have both Florida Democratic Senators Brushwood and Knappe in Tampa this whole weekend for a variety of community suck-up activities, including Saturday at Busch Gardens with the mayor and other local muckity-mucks, a Devil Rays baseball game against the Cleveland Indians Saturday night, and a dinner roasting the retiring Democratic state commissioner Sunday evening.”
    “They’d all make good targets,” Nick said thoughtfully.
    “Right. The third hit is the First Lady who is flying in on Friday to help dedicate a new cancer wing at the local VA Medical Center.”
    “Another prime target. I wonder if the Secret Service has beefed up security for those four?” Nick thought aloud.
    John Lockwood typed furiously again and pressed enter . A few moments later the monitor chimed again. “Let’s take a look at their duty roster for those days,” John murmured.
    “They’re going to be ticked off at us for breaking into their computer system,” Nick predicted.
    “Hell, what they don’t know won’t hurt them.” John’s mouth split into a wide toothy grin. “Looks like standard security details except for the Vice President. They’ve doubled his protection and placed the Tampa Police Department on alert status.”
    “That leaves both senators and the First Lady vulnerable.” Nick rolled his eyes. “Jesus, John, that’s what happens when you have a cost-cutting, unqualified bureaucrat running the show at the Secret Service these days.”
    “That’s the truth, boss. My guess is that the brass over there didn’t take our Tampa Terrorist Bulletin very seriously.”
    “Exactly. Okay, John, thanks for the help. Contact Homeland Security and have them get some NSA people down there yesterday !” Nick paused. “And if anything crops up on walking man , I want you to